


Responsibility

by AurigaVenatici (p_3a)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, Collars, M/M, Spanking, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AurigaVenatici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrathion and Anduin negotiate, then execute, a scene that the both of them enjoy to their fullest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Responsibility

**Author's Note:**

> Wrathion is a trans man; Anduin is a cis man.

“I’m not sure about this one, Wrathion.” Anduin Wrynn pointed to the item on the list he was referring to. It read, in the Black Prince’s spindly handwriting, _Spanking_.

“What’s there tobe unsure about?” The dragon scoffed and folded his arms, leaning back. Anduin was always so  _timid,_  and while for the most part he found it endearing, sometimes it could be… irritating.

“I just don’t think I’d be able to cause you pain. Not without cause.”  
“There’s plenty of cause,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. “The cause of getting me off.”  
“Wrathion,” chided the older Prince. “Don’t be so crass. You know what I mean.”

The dragon sighed deeply. “If it makes you feel any better, I doubt it would really  _hurt_. More, sting enough to teeter on the edge of hurt, and exquisite  _other_  sensations, do you understand?”  
“I don’t believe you, but I suppose I’ll try to incorporate it, seeing as you’re being just as fussy as usual.” Anduin sneered at Wrathion as he put a mark next to it, then stood up and crossed the room to his bedside dresser.

“Where are you going?”  
“There was something else on the list I had already thought about,” Anduin chirped, and Wrathion scanned the list frustratedly. There was another mark somewhere he’d missed – ah…

“ _Collars_ , Anduin?” He didn’t look up from the parchment. “I take it you have something for me, then?”  
“Yes. A gift for you, for once. I feel sometimes you don’t realise how inappropriate it is for you to spend so much money on me and not allow me to return the favour.”  
“Let’s see it, then…”

“Close your eyes first,” stated Anduin firmly.  
Wrathion found his heart rising into his throat at the tone. It wasn’t a spell, at least, not in the literal sense; something close, instead. Listening to Anduin speak in close company, he seemed so timid – so much so that one wouldn’t suspect that the boy was hiding an authoritative streak. But he was, and the tone he used with Wrathion was somewhere between the way he intoned commands to those under the influence of the Shadows, and the way he gave his reassuring speeches to troops and medics. It sent shivers down the dragon’s spine every single time.

So Wrathion drew himself up and closed his eyes, and in a few moments, he felt cool leather close around his neck. Anduin slid two fingers to his throat, ensuring the buckle wasn’t done up too tight – his skin almost as chilling against Wrathion’s as the metal from the d-ring which rest against it moments later. The older Prince leaned in close and planted a kiss between where the collar lay and Wrathion’s chin, making the dragon sigh contentedly as he relaxed into the hug Anduin gave him next.

“You can open your eyes now,” Anduin confirmed, moving away.

Wrathion gently put his hand to his chest as he stood up and looked at himself in Anduin’s plain mirror. The collar was made of a deep red leather, high in quality and well-worked. The d-ring and buckle both appeared to be gold-plated, and much to Wrathion’s delight, Anduin had seen fit to include gilded details around the edges of the leather too. They swirled and curled in Wrathion’s usual style, and Wrathion found an unbidden grin come to his face as he expected them.

He looked back to Anduin, who had his arms folded and his head tilted slightly. Tutting impatiently, he added, “What do you say, Wrathion?”  
“… _thank_  you,” Wrathion replied, rolling his eyes.  
Anduin’s face turned to a smile as he approached him once again. “You’re welcome.” He leaned down, taking a gentle kiss from Wrathion.

The Black Prince leaned into it, until he found his participation limited by a pressure on his throat. Anduin had grasped the back of the collar and was pulling him back; eventually he broke the kiss altogether, smirking down at him. “Even if you could stand to seem a little more genuine when you’re thanking somebody for something.”  
“But-! I  _was_  genuine, my Prince. I was merely, ah… distracted! Yes!”  
“What by.” Anduin looked thoroughly skeptical.  
“Ah… a fly! Yes. Why, I think it’s still over there.”  
“You’re a terrible liar, Wrathion. I don’t know why I put up with you.” He couldn’t help but smirk. “You should undress for me, and prepare yourself for me. I’ll watch.” He kissed Wrathion’s cheek one last time, then let go of the collar. He liked having it on the dragon far more than he’d expected.

Wrathion pouted, scolded.  
“That wasn’t a  _suggestion_ , Wrathion,” Anduin added.

Wrathion stood up, turning his back on Anduin as the Stormwind Prince pulled his chair over so it was facing the bed. He unbuttoned the loose jacket he’d been wearing for the evening (quite different from his usual attire, though maintaining his iconic colours), then slipped it off his shoulders, turning his head to look at Anduin.

The older man was watching him closely with one eyebrow raised. Wrathion blushed and dropped the jacket to the ground before crossing his arms before himself and reaching for the hem of his shirt.

He raised it up over himself, turning as he did so to show off as many of his muscles as he could. Pulling it over his head, he discarded that, too, then looked to Anduin again.

“Does this please you, my Prince?”  
Anduin sighed, and shrugged. “I suppose so. Continue.”

Wrathion tried to hide how frustrated that made him. Of course, he knew  _why_  Anduin was withholding his approval like this – after all, Wrathion had only done the same. He  _supposed_ he ought to apologise… not that he was going to.

He made a show of unbuttoning his trousers, having kicked his boots off long ago when they’d first entered the room. Slipping them over his hips and letting his lips fall parted as he did so, he made a languid glance at Anduin once again and found that he was at least watching properly by now. Finally discarding his underwear, he followed Anduin’s gaze – a subtle direction – to the bed.

He was about to fetch the lubrication when a sharp clear of the throat from Anduin made him remember himself. Frustrated, he reached for the drawer anyway. He wasn’t expected to ask him for permission for  _every_  little thing, was he? When Anduin didn’t make a move to chide him, he continued anyway, uncorking the bottle as he knelt on all fours, hips raised and knees apart to give Anduin the best view possible.

It was so easy to lose himself in the sensation of working the lubrication into himself, so he did his best not to. He focussed instead on rolling his hips back to show his enjoyment, gasping  _just so_ , and most of all, ensuring that his body was held in such a way that Anduin could, if he was so inclined to do so, see the collar around his neck. Anduin knew Wrathion liked to be marked by his partner as much as vice-versa – be it by gifts that were given, clothes or sigils worn, or sometimes… far more lewd methods. This particular gift was a way of Anduin showing he was aware of Wrathion’s penchant – and Wrathion wished to show that he appreciated it without necessarily…  _saying_. He appreciated it.

Anduin was hardly indifferent to the implications, either. He’d only strayed slightly into dominance and submission as a reading topic, but he knew that collaring could be a sign of great trust and affection on the part of both the Dominant and the submissive. But right now, seeing Wrathion pleasure himself in such an uncomfortable-seeming position and  _knowing_  it was because he wanted Anduin to look – and knowing  _himself_  that he could refuse Wrathion the attention he craved at any moment, gave him a rush of thrill to… well. Certainly not his  _head_ , anyway.

Almost enough to make him reconsider punishing Wrathion for his earlier insolence.  _Almost_. But, well. The dragon  _did_  ask for it before they begun…

He made the dragon keep at it for far longer than necessary, so’s he might prepare himself, too. Wrathion gave a series of frustrated whines as Anduin took his cock out and began fondling  _himself_  instead of allowing Wrathion to do so – Anduin merely raised an eyebrow in response. “Did I say you could stop?”

Wrathion whined loudly and pushed two fingers back into himself, stretching his arse wide for Anduin and pouting all the while. Anduin almost laughed – the dragon was so  _spoiled_  sometimes. After what felt like an age to Wrathion, he finally stood up and made his way over to the bed (still mostly clothed).

“Hold still,” he commanded. Wrathion didn’t do as he was told immediately – he arched his back, removed his fingers and ground himself back against Anduin before stopping, grinning over his shoulder at the older Prince.

Anduin smirked, and pushed forwards into him. Wrathion sighed with satisfaction at the sudden sensation of fullness – Anduin’s fingers grappling the d-ring of his collar and pulling back did nothing to calm him, either.

He found himself bucking back against Anduin with far more enthusiasm than he found dignified, and which, evidently, Anduin found permissable. He felt a sudden, sharp sting at his rear, a sharp  _slap_  ringing in his ears, and he  _moaned_.

“Did I tell you that you could move, Wrathion?” Anduin’s voice was shaking slightly, but Wrathion hardly noticed.  
“N… No, my Prince,” he admitted, voice still heavy with something closely resembling lust.  
“I didn’t tell you that you could watch me masturbate, either, did I?”  
Another sharp slap. Wrathion panted loudly, barely holding back a groan. “N… No… my Prince,” he breathed.  
“Or that you could stop touching yourself to see me do so.”  
 _Slap_. Wrathion yelped, then squirmed back against Anduin. That—that  _sensation_  with Anduin deep inside of him and—oh Gods.  
“Or that you could go into my drawer to take out the lubrication…”  
 _Slap_. This time, Anduin thrust forwards at the same time, and Wrathion felt utterly  _helpless_. Oh Gods, oh Gods…  
“… _and_  you never apologised for being so flippant in response to my gift.”

One last slap, and Wrathion couldn’t take it any more. “I’m—I’m sorry, Anduin! I’m--” He had to stop to pant again, a few times. “I’m so sorry, p—please find me w-wor—oh, Gods, Anduin,  _please_  let me cum,  _please_!”  
“Ask me  _properly_ , Wrathion.” His voice was still shaking, but less with nerves and more with… well. He had the Black Prince under him, writhing and literally begging him for orgasm.  _Anyone_  would be forgiven for letting their voice shake a little.  
“P—Please, my Prince—please touch my—please touch me,” he finished. He sounded so  _pathetic_ , and for a moment Anduin felt a twinge of guilt – until he realised he could alleviate his lover’s anguish in a few short gestures.

One hand still at Wrathion’s collar and keeping the dragon’s back arched, Anduin ran his hand down from Wrathion’s sore behind and instead to the front of his hip. From there, it traced its way down to where his natural dick lay – short, but very, very sensitive, especially with the hood pulled back. In one practiced movement, Anduin pushed the head clear of its protective foreskin, and rolled the tips of his fingers back over it before repeating the gesture.

He only needed to do it twice before Wrathion practically sang out in orgasm, clamping down on Anduin’s dick so’s to almost be uncomfortable and his own cock twitching under Anduin’s fingers. Gritting his teeth, Anduin kept rubbing at it until Wrathion’s vocalisations escalated even further – he brought the dragon to a second peak before letting his own take him, stars obscuring his vision as he shot hot cum deep into Wrathion’s back passage.

 

After a few long moments, he pulled out of Wrathion and fell to the side, breathing hard and pulling the dragon close into a tight hug. “Good,” he whispered, laying kisses about his shoulder as Wrathion tried to catch his  _own_  breath, too. “Very good, Wrathion. Are you hurt?”  
“No.” A pause. “Do… do I please you, my Prince?” the dragon asked in reply, sounding dazed.  
“Yes. Very much.” He planted another kiss at Wrathion’s neck, just by his collar. “I love you very much, Wrathion.”  
“And I you, Anduin Wrynn.” He swallowed and closed his eyes, snuggling back against his Prince. “And I you.”


End file.
